


What's time but a thing to kill or keep or buy or lose or live in?

by EmpyrealFantasy



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: (pre-war), Case Fic, Explicit Language, First Kiss, Getting Together, Grief/Mourning, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Robot/Human Relationships, Romance, Sad Robots, Slurs, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-05 18:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5385797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpyrealFantasy/pseuds/EmpyrealFantasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick and Nate solve a case while trying to figure out their own hearts along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Bit random, not very cohesive, mostly just more Nick/Nate spewing from my fingertips. This is a short two-shot that I've been working on between chunks of the longer, more involved fic I mentioned recently at the end of Hands of Metal and Flesh. 
> 
> Warning for the first scene with grief of a child for a parent and vise versa (in regards to Nate).

“Daddy!  Daddy, daddy, daddy!”

Nick closed his eyes and wished it was safe enough for him to totally disengage his auditory sensors.  He wanted to escape the terrified, sobbing wails of the dirty little child before him more than he’d wanted anything in a long time.

“Daddy, wake up!” the child warbled. “Up, Daddy!”

He could hear Nate tentatively approaching.  God, Nate.  If this was heartbreaking hell for Nick, how awful must it be for his friend?  This thought was what made Nick open his eyes, checking on Nate’s mental state.  He couldn’t tell how pale the man was in the flickering flames of the pyre the settlement had become, but the fire just made the shine of tears more obvious on his stubbled cheeks.

The child’s tiny body was rocking with the force of its movements.  It hands pressed to its father’s bloody cheeks, shaking the corpse back and forth, not seeming to notice as Nate crouched beside it. Even when he stroked the child’s back, hand nearly spanning the whole of it, there was no acknowledgment. “Hey there, little guy.” Damn, the child was a boy, to boot.  “I need you to come with me.  I’ve got some friends who—“ Nate’s voice broke and Nick’s heart broke with him. “—some friends who would love to meet you.  But there could be bad guys still, so we have to go real fast, okay?”

“No!  No, no, no!  Daddy wake up!”  The boy couldn’t have been more than three. “Make Daddy up!”

The hand not on the boy’s back rose to press over Nate’s mouth, the sound of his choked sob too obvious even over the crackling of flames. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.  Daddy can’t get up.  Those bad men hurt him real bad.”  It was likely more than the kid could comprehend, even a wasteland kid.  But Nate shuddered and continued on, scooping the protesting child into his arms. “Come on, we have to go. I’m so sorry.”

The boy kicked and screamed, but at least it drowned out the sounds of Nate’s ragged sobs as he patted the boy continuously even as he kicked and twisted to try and get away.  Nate’s arms might as well have been iron bands for all the good it did.

They’d been mere hours too late to save a settlement that had been under Minuteman protection. It wasn’t the first time, of course; rad storms didn’t care how far they had to travel with little notice, and enemies didn’t get out of their way when they had places to be.  But in times past at least a few of the settlers had escaped when it was obvious they were outnumbered, or one notable time there had been some ambitious raiders that had kept the settlers hostage for caps.  This time, they’d arrived to find a hoard of super mutants celebrating over the burning pyre of the homestead, the entire settlement razed and its people dismembered.

All but one.  Once the gunfire had ceased and they were searching the corpses of the super mutants they’d heard crying from a small shed.  Opening it had produced the boy.

The night was dark as they left the flames behind, but it was far from quiet with the sounds of the grieving child.  Nick stuck as close as he could to his partner but didn’t say a word.  What was there to say in a situation like this?  He’d offer to take the child to help with the burden, but he knew Nate too well to think he’d let the kid go. Instead, Nick kept his gun drawn and ready to defend them since Nate was unable to pull his own, trying to listen beyond the wails.

 

* * *

 

He wished the Institute hadn’t bothered to give him olfactory sensors.  They hadn’t bothered with a sense of taste, so why had they given him smell?

It had been almost two days since they’d left the child at another settlement with a group that had been happy to take him in. There were more bereaved parents in the Commonwealth than there were orphans just due to the harsh realities of life in the wasteland. And with Minuteman protection and thriving crops, the settlement had been happy to have a child to add to its number. An older woman had taken primary responsibility for the boy, who had thankfully fallen into uneasy sleep by the time they had left.

Nick swore he could still smell burning flesh sometimes, though, when he closed his eyes.  And Nate had been a stone wall of misery, communicating in monosyllables and grunts in the rare moments he communicated at all. 

Nick pulled a hard drag from his cigarette as he trailed after Nate’s long strides in the waning sunset light.  Nick feared he’d boil over at an inopportune moment if he couldn’t coax him to release his emotions in a constructive way.  Nick had hoped to find a Raider settlement or something to direct Nate’s impotent rage at before they returned to Diamond City, but as they approached the Charles River on what had once been Massachusetts Avenue, Nick feared they were running out of time.

“Slow down, would ya? These old servos can’t keep up with those long legs of yours.”

Nate’s eyes were bloodshot, Nick noted as the man turned back to him. He’d dozed the night before fitfully, but Nick knew he’d been awake more than he’d slept.  He’d listened to him tossing and turning all evening.  Nick tugged at his hat as he approached, angling himself to not be staring into the setting sun.  “Do you really want to go back into town tonight?”

Nate frowned down at him, his forehead creased with tension. “Not—not really, no.”

“We can hole up in the boat again; I doubt much has gotten back in there.”  He waved a hand toward the wrecked ship under the drawbridge. “Or we could walk up to Bunker Hill and spend the evening on top of the monument.  I know you like the view.”

Nate stared at him blankly for long moments before Nick noticed a slight twitch starting in the man’s jaw.  With hesitation, Nick raised a hand and squeezed Nate’s shoulder. “Nate?”

All at once, the large man crumbled.  Nick swayed but managed to stay upright when he suddenly found himself with an armload of shaking human.  He was glad for his better-than-human strength as Nate sagged against him, arms snaked around Nick’s waist with hands clawing into his back.

Nick made useless shushing noises and stroked his metal fingertips over Nate’s scalp. The man was practically vibrating with his sobs.  Nick felt like ice was in his coolant system as he held the strongest man he knew through a breakdown on the irradiated shores of the Charles River. Nate was always kind and wasn’t stoic by any means, but Nick had never seen him reach this level of collapse in all the months they’d been traveling together.  In the beginning he’d been too deeply in shock, but even after Kellogg he’d not broken down like this.  Nick feared this had been a long time coming and was more a culmination of everything they’d experienced these last months.

He shuffled them to the side until he found a bench still mostly intact, pulling Nate down to sit beside him.  The man twisted but didn’t untangle himself from around Nick, causing him to need to torque himself into an interesting position to keep supporting the human against him. He was grateful for his lack of musculature.

Twilight was slowly fading to true night as Nate calmed, his racking sobs calming to slightly shuddering breaths.  Nick rhythmically stroked his softer, flesh hand down the man’s spine from neck to tailbone and up again.  His murmured nonsense had tapered out by now; he waited for Nate to break the silence.

Eventually, he did.  “Sorry about that.” His voice was hoarse and wet, voice barely carrying over the distant sound of gunfire that was always the backdrop in the Commonwealth.

“Nothing to be sorry about. Bottling it all up with all you’ve been through isn’t healthy.  Sometimes we all need to let things out.”

Nate snorted, hands final unwinding from Nick’s waist to scrub at his eyes.  He didn’t look up. “Not an excuse for being a girl and snotting all over you.  I shouldn’t be such a pansy.”

Nick frowned; Nate made comments like this sometimes, usually when he’d been too affectionate or emotional.  It left Nick uneasy.  “It isn’t a weakness to show pain, and it sure as hell doesn’t make you less of a man.”

 The human shook his head, fingers moving from where he’d been rubbing his eyes to scrub at his head and tangle in his hair.  “I just—it was too much. I’ve been unfrozen for months now and I feel like I’m no closer to Shaun than I was when I got out of the vault, then that kid… shit, why is the world so fucked up, Nick?”

“Well, once upon a time a bunch of big shots all thought they knew best and started tossing nukes around like they were confetti.  Add to that the human capacity for being awful and you have the wasteland.”

Nate snorted. “Rather pessimistic of you, Nicky.  Aren’t you the one usually telling me how good people can be?”

Nick cupped the man’s stubbled chin in his flesh hand, tipping his head until he was finally meeting Nick’s eyes again. “Not much of an optimist, sorry.  But since I’ve met you, I’ve remembered that there is good in the world, that one or two people really can make a difference.  You’ve reminded me that, for all the bad, there’s still good out there in the world.  You just need to remember that yourself.”

He’d meant to pull his hand away now that Nate was meeting his eyes, but Nate was leaning into the touch like he was starved for it, one of his own hands coming up to hold Nick’s there.  Nick’s processors sped up and he fought to keep his face from showing his sudden nerves.  Nate sighed. “I’m not some paragon of virtue, Nick.  I’m just as dirty and corrupted as the rest of this shit world, just less beaten down since I’m still new to this brand of hell.”

Nick wished his other hand was still flesh as well, that he could hold the man’s face in both hands and trace the lines of him. He wanted to run his fingers over the man’s brow, his eyes, his lips until the tension seeped out of him.  He settled for letting his thumb rasp over Nate’s cheek. “I wish you could see yourself the way I do. You shine out here, doll.  It isn’t about being a paragon of anything; it’s about how you look around and see people no matter who or what they are.  It’s the way you help without expecting anything in return, just because somebody asked you for it.  That’s why so many of us follow you, you know. It feels like we’re buffing the whole Commonwealth to shine like you do.”

In the waning light, a human would have had a hard time seeing the way Nate’s skin flushed.  Nick’s optical sensors had good contrast even in low light, though, and even without that his dermal array could detect the spike in temperature as the blood pooled at the surface. The sound of the hitch of Nate’s breath made Nick feel like his mechanisms were frozen; he didn’t think he could move if he wanted to.

Nate’s fingers tightened where they laid over Nick’s, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.  Nick’s circuits were on fire, he swore it.

Nick had only just begun to remind himself of the myriad reasons he should not, could not let this happen when Nate was jerking back, hands balled in his lap and flushed face draining of color.  He didn’t meet Nick’s eyes as he barked out a quick sarcastic, “Gonna take a lot of Abraxo to manage that,” and stood, hands clenching and unclenching.

Nick took a long, unnecessary breath to calm his non-existent nerves, standing more slowly than his partner and brimming with false calm.  He found he couldn’t look away from Nate’s face any more than the man was able to look at him.

“I’m just so sick of all this, Nick.  I want my kid back.  I never even wanted to be a father, never wanted that life… but I had it.  I love Shaun, and I can’t stand knowing I’m failing him with every day I spend out here without saving him.”

“You’re doing all you can,” Nick said softly, tracing Nate’s profile with his eyes in the waning light. “If there was a simple way to run in there and get him I know you’d have done it already.  But you’ll get there. I know it.  You can’t let the delays keep you down.  Through no fault of your own he’s been with them for ten years already, a few more months won’t change things.”

After a long silence Nate sighed. “Let’s just use the Riptide to sleep for the night.” Nate was running his fingers roughly through his hair. “Hopefully I’ll feel more like dealing with people tomorrow; I know we were supposed to be back to check in with Ellie days ago.”

“It’s not a problem.  She knows things come up for us and makes sure clients know we’re currently on a longer schedule than usual.  She’ll have any urgent cases separate and ready for us to address right away.”

Nate’s eyes were locked somewhere around Nick’s hat as he nodded. “Right, better go check for squatters before it’s pitch black, then.”

As he followed his partner, Nick forced himself not to imagine what might have happened if he was less of a coward.

 

* * *

 

Nick very much disliked Paladin Danse. 

Well, no, that was unfair.  He very much disliked the Brotherhood of Steel, vehemently, and Danse’s attitude due to the Brotherhood made him a constant source of frustration and simmering ire for Nick. Even ignoring the way he regarded Nick himself, his general attitude was something that vexed Nick quite a lot.

“I shall meet you at the city gates in one hour, Knight. A vertibird awaits us just outside the city to take us to receive our orders.”

Nate was smiling; in the days since they’d returned to Diamond City, the rage and sadness had slowly drained from him to return him to his normal disposition. He was still more pensive than usual and slower to smile, but at least he’d more or less been back to his usual radiance.  The smile he directed at Danse was genuine. “I’ll be there.  Should I grab my suit?”

“Being over prepared is always preferable to being found wanting.  Elder Maxon did not brief me on the specifics of our mission, but if needed we can always store our armor aboard the Prydwen temporarily.  I advise against bringing your… companion aboard.  He will be unnecessary in any regard, as I will be accompanying you on our mission.” He nodded, perfunctory. “Knight.”

With echoing clanks, the Paladin walked away, leaving Nate and Nick standing where they had been in front of the armor stall. “Well, seems like I’m needed,” Nate said wryly.

Nick clenched his jaw and tapped his metal fingers across his crossed arm. “I hate that you’re working with them.”

“You know why I am.”  It was a familiar and repeated argument between them in the weeks since Nate had first taken up membership in the Brotherhood of Steel. Nate gripped Nick’s elbow and squeezed. “I’m just using them.  When I infiltrate the Institute, I am going to need all the help I can get.  And besides that, I don’t like having such a blind spot. If I’m a member, I have the chance of hearing before the do anything big; that helps for keeping the Railroad safe, getting at the Institute, and keeping the people under my protection safe.  There are too many benefits.”

“They’re just so damned small minded,” Nick grumbled, digging his fingertips in. “It makes me sick to listen to their holier-than-thou nonsense.”

“And how do you think I feel? I have to pretend to agree with their crap.  Every time they go on about ghouls all being just like ferals or super mutants needing to be totally wiped out — or god forbid when they start on synths.  When one of them starts on about how synths don’t deserve to live—“ Nate’s pale eyes were alight and his shoulders were set aggressively. “You have no idea how many of them I’ve wanted to punch when they start that crap.  Hell, I  _did_  punch Danse once.”

Nick choked on a snort, pressing his metal hand to his mouth.  “You never told me about that one.”

He retained the tense posture, but a blush was fanning out over Nate’s cheekbones.  “It was—he said some awful things about you specifically.  I can pretend to be a xenophobe for them, but I absolutely refuse to listen to them malign someone I care about. I told him that you were off limits and he quickly... understood my point of view.”

Nate standing up for him wasn’t a new idea; the man leapt to his defense needlessly any time someone had anything negative to say about him.  But the idea of him doing it even when Nick wasn’t there hadn’t really crossed his mind.  He felt overly warm at his core; he’d need to run a diagnostic later to be sure his cooling systems weren’t malfunctioning.

After a bit more shopping, Nate was waving and jogging for the stairs.  Nick continued his circuit around the market, checking in with the vendors and Takahashi, catching up on the gossip.  He’d not been on his own in the city for over a month now, so there was a lot of little things he’d been unaware of.  It was important to catch up on it before he delved too deeply into his waiting caseload.  Any small change in the city could have huge repercussions on a case.

Ellie had a stack of files in hand and her jacket on; she was apparently on her way out. “Hey there, boss.  I left a few things for you on your desk.  Where’s Nate?”

“Thanks, El.” He dropped into his chair and kicked up his feet, pulling out his cigarettes. “Apparently he was needed by the tin cans.  Hopefully he won’t be gone long.”

“Hmm. Well, I’d rather you not go and do any field work until he’s back if you can contain yourself.  I like not having to worry about you constantly anymore.”

Nick snorted. “I’ve been on my own for the better part of the last few decades.  I can deal with a few days of solo work.”

“Yeah, but why do it alone when you don’t have to?  You work better with a partner anyway.  And, again, I don’t have to worry about you nearly so much if you have someone with you.”

Nick lit his cigarette and sighed out the first drag. “Noted.  I’ll stick around town unless it looks dire for me to wait.  That work for ya?”

Ellie frowned at him for a long moment before nodding. “Fine, that works.  But tell me before you go chasing any lead, at least?  I’d like to be able to point Nate somewhere if he comes looking.”

“Yes, Mom.” Nick rolled his eyes.

She stuck out her tongue and turned with a flourish. “And don’t forget to brush your teeth!”

“My teeth are more likely to rust than get cavities!” he called out the door after her, flicking ash from his cigarette.  He could hear her laughing as she walked down the street.

After a few minutes of contemplation, he snuffed out the remainder of his cigarette and picked up the short stack of files that Ellie had deemed important. The first he tossed back down almost immediately; it was about old Sheffield having gone ‘missing’.  Nick knew that Sheffield was actually helping out at one of the Minuteman farms after having talked to Nate.  The power of the human to change people, to influence them always astounded Nick.

The next one looked interesting, but he could see that Ellie’d only given it high priority due to how much the person was willing to pay for the recovery of their stolen painting.  Stolen goods were his least favorite sort of cases, though.  He’d put it off for now.  The third and fourth were interesting enough, one a person suspected of being a synth due to behavioral changes and the other from one of the wives in the stands, sure her husband was cheating.  He put the latter with the painting as not time sensitive and opened the last file.

Now here was something Nick could sink his teeth into.  Verna McAllister’s son Bobby had apparently gone missing sometime last week.  Verna was the city’s Commerce Secretary and her kid was nearly an adult but still lived with his mother.  Nick had met the boy once or twice; he seemed like a good kid, though he had a bit of wanderlust as many Diamond City born-and-raised kids did.  They saw the adventurers come through the town and thought of the wider Commonwealth as something to be explored rather than the danger it was.  It wasn’t a stretch to imagine that the boy might have gone out and bit off more than he could chew.

He glanced at the clock on a nearby filing cabinet; it wasn’t too late to stop by and see Verna.  He’d have to see if she had any more information than Ellie had written down.

 

* * *

 

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

Nate gave a wan smile, pulling off his helmet and rubbing a hand brusquely over his dark hair. “Hey, Nick.  All quiet here?”

The human looked exhausted, dark bags under his eyes. “Do those tin cans not let you sleep or what?”

“Wasn’t time to.  But I’ve stayed up longer than this, I’m fine. Got a case for us?”

Nick stood and started herding Nate around the corner to one of the beds he kept for Ellie or others to use as needed. “Nope, lie down. Nothing’s so urgent that you can’t rest for a couple of hours. In fact, next thing I need to do is hop over to Goodneighbor, and I don’t wanna do that until later tonight anyway.  So sleep.”

Nate scowled. “I’m not some Nancy boy, I can take being a little tired—“ he broke off to yawn, ruining his argument. Nick fought not to frown even as he raised an eyebrow. “Fine, fine.  I’ll lie down.  But you’re sitting with me until I fall asleep.”

As if that was a chore. “I suppose I can do that.”

He helped Nate unbuckle his armor and arranged it in a pile.  The man grabbed a blanket from his pack and flopped down. “Ugh, I am so sore.”

“What in the heck were you doing?”

“Nothing huge.  First we just did a usual clearing of a building downtown of some super mutants, but when we were reporting in something else came up. Found out there were a bunch of ghouls under the airport and had to help clear them out.  Crazy Initiate was feeding them.  I mean, I get it.  Kind of.  I don’t want to harm ghouls any more than I want to needlessly harm anyone… but once they’re feral, they’re gone.  I even asked around Goodneighbor to make sure I was right about that assumption.  Going feral is literally the necrosis of the brain, Daisy said; there’s no healing that.  Felt bad for the kid, though.”

Nick hummed and sat on the foot of the bed, leaning against the wall.  Nate’s feet were pressed to his thigh. “Thankfully so long as a ghoul’s mentally strong enough there isn’t much of a chance of going.”

“Yeah.  Well, anyway, the whole thing was a lot of crouching in Power Armor in a damp carpark.  So I’m chafed and sore.  I’ll get over it; it isn’t like I haven’t had worse.  I’m not a Nance.”

Nick did frown this time. “You’re human; you’re allowed to be tired.  Not sure what that has to do with your gender.”

“It isn’t about gender. Ladies can be just as strong as guys can; the wasteland has driven that home even if the old world hadn’t.  I’m just—I’m strong.” Something in his voice made Nick’s brow pucker and his frown deepen.  He really didn’t like such talk.  He opened his mouth to respond but Nate cut him off. “Come on, don’t hold out on me.  Tell me about our new case.”

Nick felt his wiring light up at the plural, other thoughts being set aside for the moment.  He wasn’t joking about putting Nate’s name on the sign one of these days.  He was happy to claim partnership with Nick, totally at ease with considering the cases  _theirs_  rather than something of Nick’s he helped with.  It made something in Nick glow.  “Missing older kid, late teens.  Not a customer of Solomon’s chem shop; worked part time with Pastor Clements at the chapel.  All around good kid.  But his mom noted he’d been disappearing off somewhere lately for a day or two at a time, then one of the younger security guards said he’d seen him around Goodneighbor a few times last month.”

“Good kid hanging out in Goodneighbor?  That seems like a stretch.”

“Exactly.  Not sure what he was up to there, but I wanna go ask around.  Could be he ran off, could be he took on a fight that was too much for him.  We’ll see.”

Nate’s eyes were closed now, his face pillowed on his hands. “Mmm.  Between my contacts and yours, we’ll get a lead at least.”

It wasn’t long before Nick’s sensors told him Nate was asleep; his respiration and heartrate had evened and slowed, his body gone lax.  He stood carefully and made his way back to his desk to continue marking out a map on known Raider locations he could check on to ask about that painting that had been stolen.  It wouldn’t still be in Diamond City even if the perp was; nice things were too conspicuous here.  Old world art was rare these days, so whoever had taken it would have gotten it out fast.

An hour or two went by in silence, just the scratch of Nick’s pencil as he went through notes from previous cases and the hiss of burning paper as he smoked.  The quiet was resoundingly broken, though, when the door slammed open.

“Detective?  Detective!!!”

Nick blinked into the suddenly open doorway, setting his cigarette aside. “Missus McAllister?”

“A ransom note!  Raiders have my baby!”

That was… unexpected.  Nick furrowed his brow and held out his flesh hand. “I assume you brought it?”

Verna nodded, her frizzy curls bouncing. “Yes, here.”

The note was on a scrap of cardboard from some Fancy Lads, the hasty scrawl uneven.  It was a pretty standard note; demand of 500 caps, delivered to a marked mailbox near the Commons, to see the boy alive.  He frowned at it for a long moment, not sure what was bothering him.  “All right, calm down ma’am.  Let me look into this with my partner.  We’ll go in and get him back ourselves if we need to.”

“What if they hurt him?  I can just pay the money, I don’t want them to—“

Nick cut her off. “With Raiders, even if you pay that doesn’t guarantee his safety.  They may just take the caps and demand more and more.  Let me find out more about who has him before you act, okay?”

Her freckled face was pale, but she nodded. “Please, Detective.  Find my Bobby.”

He managed to usher her out not long after and stayed staring at the scrap of cardboard.  It was only minutes later when Nate came shuffling back around the corner, eyes red and squinting. “What was the yelling about?”

“Apparently a ransom note was sent for the missing boy.”  Nick waved it in the air.

Nate made his way to Nick and leaned heavily on his shoulder, bent low.  Nick tried not to obviously stiffen at the feel of the man’s warm breath over his ear and neck.  His dermal sensors were obviously an early model being implemented for the first time in his prototype, as they always seemed overly sensitive to someone who remembered having skin.  Or perhaps it was just that the rarity of anyone being so close made every bit of proximity felt ten times more.

Nick was glad he didn’t need to breathe, since he was hardly able to move at the moment.  Nate hummed and leaned in closer yet, fingers tightening on Nick’s collarbone. “That’s weird. The spelling is nearly perfect.”

And that was it.  Nick forced himself to stop concentrating on how close Nate was and looked back at the note. “That’s what was bothering me.  Most Raiders can’t even  _read_ , let alone write.  Whoever wrote this was educated.”

“So are we talking an out-of-the-ordinary Raider or something else?”

Nick turned and smirked at the human in victory.  He loved when clues started to click into place, loved that Nate enjoyed the thrill of the chase as much as he did. “We’ll see, won’t we?  I think going to Goodneighbor is even more important now.  Hopefully one of your pals or one of my contacts will have seen the boy around have have an idea what he does when he's there.”

Nate grinned down at him sleepily, barely inches away. Nick stalled, trying not to twitch or otherwise show his discomfort, fingers of his metal hand clenching under the desk.  His programming had to be more bugged than he’d ever imagined; when Nate’s bright eyes slowly sunk to lock onto Nick’s mouth, he was sure he couldn’t have moved if he’d wanted to.  But he didn’t want to.  Couldn’t have made himself want to.

When the kiss came, Nick was sure he was short circuiting. Electricity raced through him from his cortex mainframe to the actuators in his toes. A hand raised without his directive and laced into the short hairs at the base of Nate’s skull, and his dermal array left him feeling like his skin was on fire where Nate’s fingers gripped him at his jaw.

He wished he had tastebuds.  Nick’s tongue was fully articulated, being used now as it never had before, sliding wetly against the human’s and sending input on friction coefficients and surface asperity.  He’d never done this as himself.  He had vague, fuzzy memories from the original Nick of intimacy, but he’d never even assumed himself worthy or capable of any sort of tenderness. Never wanted it, really, not until Nate.

As he turned in his chair to get a better angle and deepen the kiss, pressing forward and taking control, Nate moaned and seemed to go weak in the knees.  He was swaying, nearly melting into Nick’s lap, hands sliding from his face to settle on his shoulders.  He seemed to be supporting himself by that contact only, the rest of him given over to Nick.  It was a heady feeling, having someone so in control and powerful submit to him wholly.  Nick regretted his inability to feel arousal, but he thought the consuming passion and adoration he felt in that moment was a good substitute.

Nate’s knee knocked hard into Nick’s metal one, making the human break their contact to curse.  His eyes were glazed and his cheeks were flushed, lips swollen and slick. It hit Nick like a punch to his abdominal plating that he loved this man, had no idea what to do with him but loved him regardless.

But the moment was not to last.  After rubbing irritably at his knee Nate blinked and went pale, eyes shooting up to Nick’s only to look away again quickly, something far different from the hazy pleasure from before taking over his face.  Nick straightened his posture with foreboding, hands fisting in his lap where they’d fallen.  That look didn’t portend good things.  He’d only seen anything similar when Nate put together the pieces to a puzzle whose picture horrified him.

The man didn’t meet Nick’s eyes as he stepped back, back military straight and face blank. “You said we’d not be going to Goodneighbor until later tonight, right?”

“Yes…?” Nick said with a drawn vowel, off balance unsure what he was really asking.  Regardless, he was sure Nate wasn’t going to answer in any meaningful way.

“Right, I’ll be back later then.” And the man was walking for the door, stiff and quick, hands balled at his side. When he reached the door he paused, hand on the knob. “Sorry for that," he rasped out, barely audible over the squeal of hinges.

He didn’t give Nick the chance to ask what in the hell he was apologizing for before he was gone, door slamming shut behind him, leaving a very bewildered synth in his wake.

What in the hell had just happened?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second half likely to be from Nate's POV; I have it mostly finished from Nick's but I don't like it, it feels contrived as I try to explain the reasons for Nate's reactions. Though I prefer writing Nick, I think in this case writing Nate might make for a better narrative. Lemme know if you think I should just work harder to not suck at it from Nick's.
> 
> Ugh, too many ideas all crashing into me. My poor, multi-year-not-writing fingers love and hate me for all this inspiration.
> 
> Thanks again for all the love I've gotten for these Fallout fics! ♥


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured out how to get around my perspective issue! I didn't want to drop all of my Nick perspective, as I just love telling the story from his POV. So I've changed the story from two chapters to three. This is a little interlude between the two bulks of the story, just a snippet between Diamond City and Goodneighbor from Nate's POV to get his thoughts on the matter and inject the world I'm writing this from. Much more elegant solution than either trying to write the entire second half from Nate's perspective or just having a little chunk randomly from his and the rest from Nick's.
> 
> Ending should be coming within a day or two as I finish it up. ♥
> 
>  **On the homophobia:** The headcanon I'm using is that homosexuality was _not_ acceptable in pre-Great War America. The world kind of stalled socially in the 1950's in the Fallout-verse. The music, the aesthetics, the 'charm'... other than some technological advancements, just due to the ongoing Cold War, then the Resource Wars, and finally the Sino-American War the same WWII attitudes just kind of kept going strong and left little space for social revolutions.
> 
> So I warn, the way Nate talks about his sexuality is painful. He really believes he's just _wrong_ due to society, his father, and his life experiences. He'll find out that things are different in the Wasteland, but for this at least, forgive his sad, sad internal self-disgust.

Nate tromped along more heavily than he needed to, his boots crunching on detritus and bits of collapsed building. It didn’t help to drown out his thoughts, but he kept trying regardless.  He could hear Nick’s softer, more careful steps behind him.  The synth didn’t try to break the silence, though, and Nate appreciated it.  He didn’t know what he’d say, if there was anything he  _could_  say to explain what he’d done earlier that afternoon.

Fuck.  He’d thought he’d burnt that part out of him years ago.  Other than a few clandestine hookups while overseas in the Army, he’d successfully buried all hints he was anything other than normal years ago.  Of all the things to survive two hundred years on ice, his… deviancy had to be one of them.  Couldn’t he just have been cured already?  Life had been hard enough before the bombs fell, hiding how wrong he was.  Hadn’t he suffered enough?  Not only did he lose his partner and best friend, have his son stolen, and basically time travel into an apocalyptic future, but he didn’t even have a chance at starting a new life without his queerness screwing everything up?

The worst thing was that he’d managed to suck Nick into it somehow.  The man was kind to not call him out on it; Nate could only hope their relationship wouldn’t be irreparably harmed.  God, but he’d tried so hard to get better. His father’s voice echoed through his mind to remind him of how the world saw men like him, and the looks on the faces of the people who had found out over the years haunted him.

He’d been lucky to have someone like Nora in his life.  She’d been so understanding. Even knowing his deviancy she’d married him, and she’d been patient and kind with him as he tried to heal himself.  Shaun had been his gift to her for being such an amazing woman.  And how had he repaid her?  He’d been unable to do anything as she was killed and had yet to recover Shaun from her murderers.

He didn’t… hate himself or anything like that.  Sure, his father had tried to convince him that he  _should_  hate himself, but Nate hadn’t had the same religious conviction his dad had had.  Another failing, if Marvin Grey had any say in the matter. So no, Nate wasn’t self-flagellating… he just knew he wasn’t right.  He’d had fun with other queers when he was younger, screwing around in seedy hotels and alleys where respectable folk wouldn’t go.  And there’d been a surprising number of guys overseas that had been willing to bed an American soldier.  His dad had been of the opinion that Nate should be whipping himself for every impure thought he had, and Nate just didn’t see the point in being that upset about who he wanted to bang.

But one thing his father had been right about was that Nate was broken.  It was simple fact. Something had gone wrong at some point in his development to make him unable to want women the way a good man did, instead pointing his cock towards the broad-shouldered and masculine.  He’d managed with Nora to treat her well enough that their very infrequent intimacy didn’t bother her, and for most of his life he’d been content to just ignore any leanings he might have had.

It would be easier to pretend he wasn’t  _wrong_  if Nick wasn’t so amazing.  If he was less witty, kind, generous, and brave.  If he was just handsome or tempting it would be fine.  Hancock was beyond charming, after all; Danse was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome.  He’d noticed both, noticed others he’d met as well, but they hadn’t led him to want to do anything that would expose him as a Nancy.  But after only a few weeks in Nick’s company, witnessing the depths of his beautiful metal heart, Nate had found himself terrifyingly head-over-heels in a way he’d never been in his life.

He’d fought it, obviously.  Tried to ignore it for a while, had some fun with Magnolia over in Goodneighbor to remind himself what being a real man was like.  Told himself it was friendship, that he just admired Nick.  But one too many nights left aching with adoration or hard and hating himself for betraying his friendship with the detective – he’d gotten past the point of denial.  But he’d done well since then, had months of stifling his urges to attest to it.

But now he’d fucked it all up.  One moment of sleepy triumph and he’d caved, leaning in and ruining everything with his closest friend.  God, what must Nick think of him now that he knew?  How could the synth stand to keep working with him?  Maybe he was just in shock and would come to his senses.  Nate felt ill at the thought, but it was no less than he deserved.  He was weak, had given in to the basest, most broken part of him.  The part that begged to wrap his arms around Nick and melt into him, to see if Nick tasted like metal and silicone alone or something more, to beg him to let Nate stay by his side forever.

No matter that he didn’t hate himself, he was realistic.  He’d lost plenty of people because of his deviancy.  The echoes of his father’s, “No one wants to be friendly with a faggot, Nathaniel. They don’t want to end up infected and in Hell beside you,” and the expression on his high school best friend’s face when he’d found out – disgusted, horrified, betrayed – flashed through him, reminding him of all he stood to lose.

Somehow, he’d managed to convince all these people that he was something good.  Something worth associating with, worth caring for.  A kiss wasn’t worth losing all that, losing the friendship of the best person he’d ever met, no matter how long he’d ached for it.

Nate wished they could find some Raiders to shoot, anything to distract him from the consequences of his fuck up.

He swung his bag around to his front, rooting through it until he found a tin of Mentats.  Anything to dull his brain some.  He didn’t want to risk Jet or liquor while traversing the streets, though they would work better.  He found a tin of berry flavored ones that still had three in the pack, popping all three under his tongue to melt and dropping the empty tin to the ground.

“C’mon, that stuff is gonna rot your insides.”

Nate struggled to smile normally over his shoulder at Nick, shrugging. “You really think I’m gonna live to an old enough age that that will matter?  I think bullets or rads are my more likely problem.”

Nick’s eyes were lovely in nearly all situations, but in the dark when faint light just barely outlined his strong jawline, the glow of his eyes was nearly enchanting.  In this moment, they were narrowed. “I don’t much like your blasé attitude about dying, Dollface.  I get you mortals are short-lived, but I’d rather you stay alive as long as possible, got it?”

His stomach flipped and clenched as it always did when Nick expressed concern.  His voice wobbled when he replied, but Nick gamely didn’t call him on it. “Ah, I’m pretty tough, Nicky.  Have too many things to get done to bite the dust yet.”

“Well, see that you don’t.  Can’t go losing my favorite human too soon.”

Nate turned away so that Nick couldn’t see the way he flushed.  He could practically feel his pulse in his cheeks.  Fuck, but he was obvious when it came to Nick.  Maybe that was why Nick hadn’t reacted badly yet; he was a detective after all.  Nate hadn’t considered it before, but what if Nick had already known? Nate was awful at not gravitating towards him, after all, and in moments like this he rarely could control his facial expressions.  He tried to made sure he was turned away, but looking back he was sure there were times he hadn’t been able to.

If Nick had already known, what did that tell him?  Nate ducked under a collapsed beam that spanned the roadway a few blocks from Goodneighbor, staying low to shimmy under a car that blocked the road.  He’d never said anything, obviously hadn’t stopped associating with him.  He couldn’t imagine he just didn’t care; he couldn’t imagine someone not caring that a friend was both queer and attracted to them.  

The idea that Nick was… like him zinged through him hard enough to make him physically stumble.  A hand gripped his elbow and pulled him back upright. “Hey now, don’t faceplant here.” There was a large amount of glass littered amongst the rubble here.  Nick released him with a pat to his elbow. “We’re nearly there.  Do you need more rest?”

“N-No,” stuttered Nate, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just lost my footing.”

Keen golden eyes tracked him as he quickened his steps to get ahead again, making Nate speed up further. “Hmm.  Well, I’m gonna watch you, pal.  You start looking too exhausted and I’m tying you to a bed in the Rexford to get some sleep while I do the legwork.”

Now  _that_  nearly ended with Nate flat on the ground more than anything, but he couldn’t bring himself to look back at Nick to see what expression the man had on his face.  Was he even thinking before he spoke?

Damn, but now the thought wouldn’t leave his mind. He remembered the kiss, the grip of Nick’s fingers in his hair, the dark taste of him, and the way he’d wanted to just collapse into the synth’s lap and give himself to him.  Oh, god.  His brain suddenly reminded him that Nick had assuredly kissed back, had taken control and utterly devoured Nate. His panic hadn’t let him consider it before, but Nick hadn’t pushed him away, hadn’t hesitated, had just twined his tongue with Nate’s and effectively taken him apart.

Adding that thought with the idea of Nick tying him down had his pants suddenly too tight.  He imagined Nick using his tie to secure him to the ratty bedframe in the Hotel Rexford and methodically making Nate lose what little of his mind remained.

Damnit, but he couldn’t do this.  He couldn’t hope.  Hope got you hurt, and even if Nick was somehow inclined in the same way Nate was… it was  _dangerous_  to be a faggot.  He’d nearly been killed half a dozen times due to being suspected or caught out when he was younger. With violence being the norm now, he could only imagine the treatment he’d get if he was found out in someplace like Goodneighbor or Diamond City.  He couldn’t subject Nick to that.  He was already hassled so much just for what he was, even if there was a tiny chance that his feelings were returned, the consequences were too dire for him to even consider it.

Oh, but he wanted to consider it.  Nate frowned and clenched his fists, hating himself for the warmth and fluttering in his gut at the mere idea. 

The glow from the neon lights of Goodneighbor’s sign was visible over the rubble of a nearby building now, and Nate forced his mind back to reality.  Reality was that he was a thirty-two year old man in a time not his own, investigating a case with his robot partner to find a missing person, and there were way more important things in the world than what his cock and heart wanted.

He was better than this. He’d made himself better than this.  If Nick was giving him a pass and not shunning him for his mistake earlier that day, he’d not squander it.

No matter how much he adored him, Nick deserved better from him.  He’d get it.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Goodneighbor was boisterous as it ever was, various townsfolk going about their business, two men arguing in loud voices just inside the entrance.  By the way they slurred and the stench he could catch from feet away, Nick assumed they were drunk.  He and Nate sidestepped them and aimed for Daisy’s shop foremost.  She saw nearly everyone who came in or out and heard all the best gossip.  She’d be their best lead to at least know who could give them information.

Nate’s posture was still stiff and his mannerisms forced.  Nick had been struggling to keep a frown off his face all evening.  The kiss had been – well, for a ‘first’ kiss it was a doozy, that was for sure.  Nick could practically still feel his processors sparking and his various dermal and tactility sensors kicked into overdrive.  But Nate’s reaction and subsequent behavior tossed a tub of ice water on any pleasure he might have felt at the memory.

He couldn’t figure out any logical reason for it, was the thing. If anything, he’d have pinned  _himself_  as the one to be awkward and in denial if this had happened.  Nate was so open with his affections, his acceptance of everyone.  In the  ~~many~~  couple of times Nick had considered outcomes of the slowly building regard between them, he’d never foreseen Nate acting and then pulling so firmly away.

Nick couldn’t imagine it had anything to do with him; for all that he could think of a million reasons why any sane human shouldn’t want him, he’d long since come to terms with Nate being insane and for some reason attracted to him.  The signs had been there from early on, though he’d denied them at first: elevated heart-rate and respiration, frequent smiles, flushed cheeks, oft-initiated physical contact.  After studying Nate interacting with others, he had had to admit that these signs were only directed towards him and, thus, something specific to him.

Now, Nick didn’t believe Nate  _should_  care for him in such a way.  He was not a feasible or acceptable romantic partner for a human.  Even ignoring his lack of a cock or even the drive to run one, he was a machine.  A machine that was not even in the greatest condition.  The societal implications of taking up with a synth, the physical limitations, the emotional roadblocks… there were a million reasons that Nate should not care for him romantically.  But Nate did.  And god help him, Nick returned the affection.

So Nate’s reaction was all the more puzzling in light of all that.  Nick hated being puzzled nearly more than anything else; he was a detective, seeing and understanding things was his job.

Nate was greeting Daisy boisterously. “My favorite person in all of Goodneighbor!  How are you, beautiful?”

Daisy scoffed and leaned forward on her counter, reaching over to swat at Nate’s head. “Sweet talker.  You know that shit doesn’t fly here.  What do you need?  Here to shop or gossip?”

Nick propped himself against the wall and watched Nate grin. “Gossip.  We’re hunting down a missing person who has been known to come around here sometimes.”

“Who’s that?”

Nate waved a hand to Nick to elaborate.  Nick tipped his hat in greeting to Daisy and nodded. “Late teens, brunet with short curly hair. Name is Bobby McAllister, a Diamond City kid.”

She tapped her chin, looking up into the rafters as she thought. “Hmm, Bobby McAllister, eh? Name isn’t ringing a bell… but wait.  Does he have a weird little Y-shaped scar on his cheek?  Yea big?” She motioned with a hand, indicating a space of a few inches at her jawline.

Nick nodded. “That’s the one.  Seen him?”

“Not lately no.” Nate deflated beside him and Daisy laughed. “You didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you kiddo?  Nope, haven’t seen him in the last few weeks, but he has come here quite a few times.  Usually trying and failing to sneak around.  Hung around the Third Rail a lot, if I recall.”

“Anyone he hung out with that you know of?”

“Might wanna ask the Mayor, actually.  Pretty sure I saw him in the boy’s company a time or two.  He’d be more likely to know who he spent his time with.”

“Perfect, thank you so much, Daisy!” Nate leaned forward and gave a theatrical bow, seizing Daisy’s hand and kissing the back. “This is why you’re my favorite.”

“Don’t let Hancock hear you saying that; that boy is a jealous little shit.”

Nate just laughed in response, waggling his brows. “Well, if he was as helpful as you he might be higher on my list, but as it is he can’t hold a candle to you.”

“You just like having someone you can bitch about the lack of music that survived through to now, you big faker.  Now get outta here, you’ll scare off my customers with your goodliness.”

Nick smiled as he followed Nate out of the shop, glad to see Nate loosening up to be more like his normal self.  The human waved to KL-E-0 as they passed her shop as well, receiving a blink of her primary laser in response.  The guards in front of the Mayor’s house grumbled as they entered, long used to the human that had charmed his way into their boss’s good graces.  It had caused jealousy and some tension amongst those who had been around much longer, but Nate seemed oblivious.

“Hancock,” Nate crooned at the top of his lungs as they entered. “Oh Haaancock!”

The hat made Hancock easily identifiable as he leaned over the rail of the upstairs. “The fuck do you want, Trouble?  If you aren’t dying, there’s no reason to come in screaming your face off.”

Nate made his way up the stairs, a grin covering his face. “That’s no way to greet your bestest buddy.”

“Tsh.” It was surprising how Hancock was able to make it clear he was rolling his eyes, even with his eyes being black from corner to corner. “Are you actually my dealer?  No?  Then you ain’t my bestest anything.”

“Ouch!”

 Hancock strolled down the stairs with his hands jammed in his pockets to meet Nate halfway.  He tipped his hat to Nick, ignoring Nate entirely. “Detective. I see you’re still saddled with this pain in the ass.”

“Saddled with?!”

Nick smiled. “You’ve voluntarily trailed after him, too.  You shouldn’t judge.”

The ghoul barked a laugh, leaning back against the stair’s railing. “So, what brings you guys to my town? Business or… pleasure?”

“Business, sadly,” Nate said with a pout.

“Should we take this upstairs?”

Nick shook his head. “No need, just have a quick question for you.  You know anything about Bobby McAllister?”

Hancock raised his brow. “Verna’s kid?  What about him?”

“He’s gone missing, apparently.  There was a ransom note sent to his mother.  Heard he liked to hang out around here?”

“Yeah, he has a few friends in town.  Mostly hung out at the Third Rail and got drunk.  Want me to come introduce you two to a few?”

The walk to the bar was short, spent with Hancock teasing Nate and Nate being obnoxious. Nick trailed slightly behind them stifling a smile.

“I’m gonna get fat, stuck in my lofty Statehouse all the time.  You never wanna hang out no more.  Why do you love Valentine so much better than me?”

Nate scoffed, but Nick could see the stiffening of his shoulders. “It isn’t about preference, Nick and I just have cases to take care of.”

“You mean Nick has cases, being the detective in this scenario.”

Nate rubbed the back of his neck, and Nick watched with interest. “Well, umm, I guess you’re right.”

“I’m telling you, we just need to start putting your name on the signs.  Isn’t like you don’t do half the work these days.”

Nate glanced back, a shy smile overtaking his face. “I don’t think ‘Valentine and Grey’ sounds nearly as good as just Valentine.  And it ruins the mystique.  I don’t need to headline, I just like helping.”

“Well, you’re a damn fine partner. You deserve credit.”

Hancock made gagging noises. “Ugh, get a room you two.”

Nate stiffened again, smile gone wooden as he turned back to face front and duck through the door to the Third Rail. “Hah hah.”

The reaction, like so many lately from the man, left Nick perturbed and wondering.  He didn’t have time to contemplate just then, though, as they had a case to focus on.  He cut in to avoid Hancock pressing further and getting Nate in any worse of a mood. “So, what do you know about Bobby?”

Hancock spun and walked backward a few steps before they reached the stairs. “Not much; we weren’t buddies or anything, just happened to get drunk in a group together.  He stuck out a bit, though.  Kid has a baby face and is so obviously Diamond City that it hurt.  And since I’ve never even seen him take a chem, he was always kinda a sore thumb, ya dig?”

Nate grabbed Hancock’s elbow and spun him back around so he was watching where he was going, specifically since the stairs were in front of them. “So he came all the way from Diamond City to get drunk?  That’s it?”

“I think he’s banging someone who lives here.  I got that vibe from him and Jessie.”

A romance added to the mix, then.  Gave the kid reason to risk himself coming out to Goodneighbor on a regular basis. But did it make the kidnapping scenario more or less likely?  It was impossible to tell yet; he’d need to meet the lover. “This Jessie one of the ones we’ll be meeting?”

“Depends on who’s down here, but yeah. Lemme do the talking first, though.  You know how Goodneighbor folks get.”

He led them to a corner where a motley group of younger humans and ghouls sat, chems and bottles of liquor nearly covering the coffee table between their couches.  Several of the group had playing cards in their hands. Cries of, “Hancock!” and “Mister Mayor!” nearly drowned out Magnolia as they approached.

“What’s up, brothers and sisters?  You all having a good night?”

“Hell yeah we are!  Every night is good in Goodneighbor!”  Drunken laughter punctuated the girl’s exclamation.

“Mayor, have you got any Jet? I’m desperate over here,” a young ghoul rasped, his fingers tight on the edge of the table.

Hancock frowned a bit but pulled an inhaler from his pocket, tossing it in a gentle arc. “Share that, I’m not supplying all you fuckers.” Another cheer went up in reply.

“You and your buddies gonna join us?” an older girl slurred, smiling with glassy eyes. “You haven’t come to party with us in weeks.”

“Sorry kiddos, here on business.”  Hancock looked over each of them. “Anyone know where Jessie is?”

“Went off with Bobby days ago, haven’t heard from them since,” said the ghoul boy who had asked for the Jet.  He tapped his hand of cards on the table. “They’ve been pains in the ass for a while, though.  Couples, you know?” A few snickers and boos punctuated this.

Hancock tipped his head to signal to Nick.  He stepped forward and glanced around the table. “None of you guys have seen Jessie or Bobby for days?”

A chorus of negatives met him, from those who seemed lucid at least. The older girl played with the label on her alcohol bottle. “Nope. But they go off together all the time, so it isn’t all that surprising. Sex marathons or something.” Snickers again from the table at large. “Is one of them in trouble?”

Nick shook his head. “No, but Bobby’s mom back home is worried about him, she hasn’t seen him either.”

The attention of the group was waning, several of them back to playing cards and ignoring the conversation entirely.  Nick could see he wasn’t likely to get anything useful out of them. “Well, thanks for your help.  If any of you hear from one of them, let Mayor Hancock know, would ya?”

As they walked away, Hancock nudged Nick with his elbow. “Volunteering me for shit?  You know I hate work!”

“I know you better than that, Johnny.  You’re invested now and worried at least about the one that’s yours.”

Hancock grumbled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Shit, don’t let that get around. I don’t want nobody thinking I’m soft.”

“So soft,” Nate crowed, slinging an arm around the man’s shoulders. “You’re just a squishy teddy bear aren’t you?”

“Oh, you fucker—“ The two started tussling in the stairwell, nearly knocking down a patron that was coming down them.  Nick gave an apologetic smile that was returned with a glare once the person’s eyes flicked over his neck and eyes. 

As the two made their way up the stairs in a tangle in front of him, Nick pulled out a cigarette and rolled it between his metal fingers.  Diamond City kid, takes up with someone from Goodneighbor. Goes back and forth for months, then suddenly goes missing.  It was entirely possible he’d been caught one night on his way to or from, but it was also entirely possible that something else was going on here.  No way to truly know with the info they had.  They’d need to go to the drop point.

“I need to take some caps to the ransom drop.  Gonna stake it out after and see who comes to get them, tail ‘em back to wherever they go.  I can go alone if you don’t feel up to it, Nate.”

Nate froze, releasing Hancock from the headlock he’d had the man in. “You don’t want me to go with you?”

“I didn’t say that. But I know you were tired already today, and it’s halfway to dawn. Could be hours more holed up somewhere watching the drop point.  Just didn’t want you to feel obligated.”  _Especially since you did such a fine job avoiding me earlier_ , he didn’t say.

The thought seemed to cross Nate’s mind as well, as he hesitated with a frown.  “Umm—“

“Should stay here with me, Trouble. You need to fill me in on what the fuck’s been going on since you ditched me here weeks ago.”

Nate looked torn, chewing his lower lip.  Nick was sure he’d stay, for a moment, but the human surprised him. “Nah, sorry Hancock.  I don’t like how little we know about this situation.  I don’t wanna leave Nick out there by himself.”

“Just in case shit goes south, right?” Hancock nodded. “Makes sense.  You’d better get your smooth ass back over here sometime soon, though.  I’m feeling neglected, buttercup.”

Nate scoffed and skipped a step to find himself alongside Hancock.  “You poor, wilting flower.”

Nick cleared his throat to get their attention as they reached the top of the stairs. “Before we go, Hancock, tell me about this Jessie.  Ghoul or human?”

“Ghoul, of course. I doubt there woulda been this much secrecy if there wasn’t the whole  _skin problem_  going on.”

Another layer added.  Illicit lover, disapproved of.  “Any distinguishing features?”

“You mean other than being a ghoul?” Hancock said wryly. Nate snorted and held the door open for them. “Kid’s still got his hair, that’s something.  So few of us do.  Brunet and curly like Bobby, but longer.  Keeps it in a ponytail most times.”

Nick nodded and lit the cigarette he’d been fiddling with. “That helps.  Want to at least have a chance of knowing I’ve seen the kid if I come across him or the boyfriend.”

They’d nearly made it to the Statehouse door when Nick realized Nate wasn’t with them.  He spun and dropped a hand to his gun, scanning the shadows of the street.  It was paranoia, though.  Nate was just standing several yards back in the middle of the street, back straight.  Nick strolled back towards him. “Nate?  Dollface, you alright?”

It was hard to tell in the darkness, but Nate seemed pale.  He was certainly stiff as a board, eyes unfocused.

Hancock snapped his fingers in front of Nate’s eyes. “Yo, Trouble, you in there?”

Nate startled, jumping enough to be visible as his eyes refocused.  His eyes darted from Hancock to Nick, mouth open slightly.

“Damn, what’s up with you? You look like you’re having a bad trip.”

It took long seconds for Nate to reply, and when he did his voice was strained and his smile obviously fake. “Sorry, got lost in my own head.  Ignore me.  We heading out, Nick?”

Nick catalogued the sudden uptick in the tempo of Nate’s pulse, the way his eyes were still wide and darting, the clench of his hands at his sides.  He tried to think of any impetus for his sudden, strange behavior and came up empty.  Damn if Nate wasn’t driving him absolutely bonkers today with his inexplicable behavior.  Nick’s hard drive was going to light on fire from pure frustration at this rate. 

He’d get to the bottom of this if it killed him.

 

* * *

 

The found a good lookout point on the second floor of an old diner, the wall facing the street nearly totally collapsed but the roof intact.  This was good, since the air smelt of rain.  It gave them a perfectly unobstructed view of the mailbox, though, where they’d left the bundle of caps and scraped down the side of it with a knife to signal that they’d made the drop.

Nate had been all but silent since leaving Goodneighbor.  He was more tense than Nick had ever seen him, lost in thought and distracted.  It was a dangerous combination to be in the wasteland.  He sat on an old armchair with his elbows on his knees and stared into nothing.

The sky was lightening into dawn now, possible hours to go before someone came to check for the caps. “You oughta try to get some sleep.  We’re going to be here for a bit.  If you get your sleeping bag out and settle in, I’ll wake you whenever there’s movement.”

 The human jerked his head around, apparently having been startled again. As vigilant as he normally was, this was just another bad sign on a mountain of them.  “Uhh, I don’t think sleep will work right now. Thanks though.”

Nick frowned. “Nate, you’ve been off all day. I need you on top of your game in case this goes badly.  What in the world is wrong with you?”

This time Nick could watch the change and knew he was paling for sure, pupils contracting and a light sheen of sweat popping up at his temples. “Wrong? Nothing’s wrong!”

“That might be more convincing if literally everything about your tone and body language were different,” Nick said dryly, wiggling his metal fingers in Nate’s direction. “You’re so strung out I’d think you’d been popping more than Mentats behind my back.” Nate was  _shaking_ now.  Nick was seriously worried. “You’ve gotta tell me what’s wrong.  You’ve got me fretting like a fishwife.”

“I—“ Nate broke off and dropped his head into his hands.  His breathing was labored.

Nick approached cautiously and knelt at his feet, peering up to peek between the man’s disheveled fringe and his fingers. “Nate?”

“ _You said it like it was nothing._ ”

Nick blinked several times, still peering uselessly up at the man’s hands. “Said what?”

“Boyfriend,” he spat, his voice rough and laced with horror.

Nick tried to pinpoint what in the hell Nate was on about. His memory systems pulled up the conversation with Hancock, but the memory didn’t really make clear Nate’s meaning. “I really don’t know what you mean.  Is it cuz the kid’s dating a ghoul?”

“Of course not!” The hands finally dropped, exposing nearly crazed green eyes staring down at Nick. “But they’re both boys, and neither of you seemed to give a shit at all!”

He blinked once, twice, processors whirring. The reactions to appearing ‘soft’.  His discomfort with emotionally intimate moments.  The kiss and its aftermath.  Fuzzy memories of the world before the bombs. Everything slotted into place with a nearly audible click, leaving Nick’s chest aching. “Oh, Nate.” He may not have had a heart, but it was breaking.

The man stood, stepping back away from Nick and waving his arms frantically. “What?! You can’t tell me—It isn’t— _Nobody likes queers, Nick!_ ”

Nick stayed on the ground, frown deep and eyes sad. “I remember how it was before the war. But no one cares anymore, Nate.  There’s too much else to worry about with this life, who somebody loves isn’t one most give two shits about.  Hell, if people care about it at all it’s humans shacking up with non-humans that bugs them. Something simple like gender?  It doesn’t even register to folks.”

“But… I don’t…” Nate looked lost now, chin wobbling. “How?”

Nick shook his head and stood, adjusting his hat and keeping his distance. He spoke slowly and tried to keep a soothing tone. “Just like I said.  No one cares what gender folks are.  Love is hard enough to find in the wasteland, so if you find it, who cares?  Now, like I said, some folks get up in arms about humans with ghouls or what have you, but that’s just because of the general non-human bigotry.  There isn’t even really terminology for it anymore.  People don’t care what parts you’ve got, what your partner’s got, or how you wanna live your life.  At all.”

Nick had to dart in fast to catch him when Nate’s knees seemed to go out from under him, sending the human crashing to the ground.  Nick caught him at an odd angle and lowered him to sit, tilting the man’s face up. “You all right?”

Nate shook his head. “I can’t even imagine…”

Well, he finally had the pieces to the puzzle that had been driving him out of his mind.  Not that he liked the picture they formed, but that was sadly often the case for him.

He usually tried to push the original Nick’s memories to the back of his mind, but he tugged at them now like taffy, stretching them and rewinding to get a better handle on things.  He could recall the kind of blissful ignorance most people existed in back then, the idea that anything ‘abnormal’ could be happening amongst those they knew practically unheard of.  One was expected to be a ‘proper’ man or a ‘proper’ woman, existing in society’s ideas of that, including who they were supposed to end up with.

It felt archaic in a way most pre-war memories didn’t.  Most of the time, when he thought back, he felt like the wasteland was the past, a rudimentary society crawling up from the filth.  The days before the war always felt shining and bright, an ideal to stretch towards.  But since Nick so rarely dwelt on them, he was able to buff out the rough edges, the dirt that hid so close under the shiny surface of that pre-war world. It had been just as filthy as the wasteland, just in different ways.

Whereas now people treated you like shit if you weren’t human, back then it had been due to the color of your skin or who you loved. Whereas now people killed and stole and did awful things to get by, people had done much the same in the past… just not usually as openly, and with justifications to help themselves sleep at night.

Nick had never really considered the magnitude of changes Nate was dealing with on a daily basis.  The amount of comforts he’d taken for granted, the things that he accepted with nary a blink despite how utterly horrifying they must seem to him. It only made him respect the man more for the strength he showed.

Nate tugged away. Nick came back to himself and realized he’d still been holding onto the human while he thought; he was glad he had no capability of blushing.  He cleared his throat.  “All right, there?”

Though Nate nodded, Nick didn’t know how true it was.  “I just need to think.”

Nick had intentions of suggesting sleep again, but his proximity sensors lit up in the next moment.  He dropped to a crouch and grabbed Nate’s forearm. “Someone’s coming.”

The human grabbed his bag to shield his arm behind, activating his Pip-boy.  With a few taps and a spin of the dial he showed his readout to Nick.  Two figures, coming from the Southeast.  They crept to the hole in the wall, pulling their guns and flicking off their safeties.

  “Look!”  Nick turned up his audio capabilities to tune into the pair that were approaching. “There’s a mark on the box.  She delivered the caps!”

“Damnit, slow down and be quiet! You don’t know if someone’s nearby or not.”

“Nah, no way my mom didn’t just panic.  She’ll do whatever was needed if she thinks I’m not ‘safe’ or whatever.”

“Man, that’s kinda fucked up.  She cares about you; most of us don’t have that.”

Nick had suspected this to be the case.  He leaned into Nate to whisper against his ear. “It’s the missing kid himself.”

“Figures,” Nate said with a scowl, thumbing the safety back on. “Dramatic entrance?”

He grinned and tracked the two young men as they approached.  “She can care all she wants,” the human boy was saying, hands deep in his pickets. “She thinks you’re a  _thing_ , Jess. She’ll never let me marry you.”

“I still don’t like this. She’s gonna find out, Bobby.”

“Damn right she is,” Nick drawled, levering himself through the hole to drop to the sidewalk below.  Nate landed beside him in a crouch, cocking his shotgun noisily and pointing it at the two teens.

The ghoul kid squealed and ducked. “Ah fuck, damnit Bobby, I  _told you_!”

The kid was younger than Nick had remembered, traces of acne still dotting his chin and with cheeks still round with baby fat.  He puffed up his chest now and stood tall. “You’re not gonna hurt me.”

Nate rolled his eyes dramatically. “No, I’m not.  But you shouldn’t assume that.”

“You’re with Detective Valentine.  He wouldn’t let you.”  Nick felt warm at the confidence.

“You know a detective and you didn’t think your mom would send someone?!”

Nick holstered his gun and crossed his arms. “Care to explain yourself, kid?”

Bobby’s eyes cut away and his posture slumped.  “It’s my mom.  She’s completely unreasonable.  Just cuz Jess’s a ghoul she throws a fit about us even being friends.  If I told her I wanted to marry him she would have him killed.”  Jessie stood now and approached, lacing their fingers together.  There was a frown on the young ghoul’s face.

“You really think she’d go so far?”

“If it meant she’d still have a chance at marrying me off to one of the upper stands brats, yeah.  I just wanted enough caps for us to get away, s’all.  Figured whether she paid the ransom or not, at least it gave a reason for me to be gone without her searching for me.”

“Well kids, give me a minute to talk to my partner and see how we wanna move on from here.  I assume you’re gonna cooperate.”

Bobby looked ready to argue, but a plaintive look from his boyfriend silenced him.  “Yeah.  Yeah fine.”

Nate had been shoulder deep in the mailbox and came out with the small box of caps they’d planted.  Nick noted that the man was very carefully avoiding looking at the couple, though he fiddled with the box now with a frown.  The money was his, just a decoy.  Nick stopped across from him, lighting a cigarette. “How do you wanna play this?”

“What options have we got?”

Nick flicked his lighter open and snapped it shut. “Quite a few variations on a few themes.  Either we make the kids go back, or we don’t.  Could tell the mom the truth, or we can let her think the Raiders killed him.”

“Shouldn’t…” Nate grimaced.  “Shouldn’t they have a say in things?”

“For what Verna knows, yeah.  I assume you want to let them go?”  He knew Nate well, after all.  Even with his internal turmoil, no way was he going to make someone separate from who they loved.

“Yeah.  If they’re lucky enough to live in a world where no one thinks they’re broken, how can I not let them enjoy it?”

Nick frowned and his hand moved without his express consent, gripping Nate’s elbow. “Dollface, you’re not broken.”

“Not a conversation for right now, I don’t think,” Nate said with a smile Nick didn’t believe for a moment.

In either case, he turned back to the kids. “All right, let’s all hike back to Goodneighbor and discuss this.  Either of you two make a break for it and I’ll shoot you somewhere non-vital, got it?”

 

* * *

 

Of course Nate gave them the caps they’d used as bait.  Nick wasn’t in the least surprised.  The man’s goodness was something encoded in his DNA, he swore.  Even with his discomfort and personal upset, Nate had pressed the cap box into the boys’ hands and told them to make something for themselves.

Verna wasn’t going to be pleased, but they’d convinced the boy to write her a letter at least to explain.  The truth would make her angry, but with the caps the boys could get away from there and from any risk of retaliation.  She’d blame Nick for not dragging the boy back, but Nick had practice with pissing off clients in the name of the greater good, this wouldn’t be any difference.

They sat in the spare room Hancock always let them use when they needed to stay overnight, Nate lying on the bed, arms behind his head and face clouded with exhaustion.  He’d been up for the majority of several days now, but he’d so far fought sleep with the tenacity he fought bases full of super mutants.

“Nate, you need to get some shut eye.  Case’s all but over now.  Rest and we’ll head back to Diamond City once you’re rested.”

“I’ve been trying.  I just can’t stop  _thinking_.”

Nick pushed off the wall where he’d been reclining and approached, standing beside the bed with his hands in his pockets.  “I get that this is big for you.  Really.  I’ve been actively examining Nick’s old memories all evening trying to truly remember what it was like—I can’t even imagine how hard this kind of paradigm shift’s gotta be for you.  But you don’t have to swallow it all in one sitting.  You need to sleep; it’ll likely be easier for you once you do, anyway.”

Nate stared up at him, green eyes bright. “It’s really… it’s okay here?”

“More than. Tell someone you don’t like dames and they wouldn’t even bat an eyelash.”

A choked sound emerged from Nate’s throat, something like a smile twisting his lips. “I feel so guilty for being happy about this place.  My best friend is dead and I didn’t even bury her corpse, my son is god knows where… but I feel like I belong here better than I ever did back then.  I’m useful.  I’m necessary.  Killing and making shit, the skills I’m best at, are actually assets.  And now—“ Nate inhaled deeply, blinking for a moment before breathing out. “I want to hate myself for that tiny part of me that is glad I was frozen.  That’s glad the world freaking ended.  Am I an awful person?”

Nick sat on the edge of the bed and shook his head, looking out the window at the cloudy sky.  The green tinge told him a rad storm was coming; hopefully it was be over by the time Nate was up and ready for them to go.  “If you are then I am too, sweetheart.  For all I regret my existence some days, others… well, with people like you in my life, how can I be upset about how things have turned out?”

He turned back to Nate when he made a curious, broken noise, finding a truer smile on the man’s face. “Well shit, Nick.  Never thought I’d get you saying you were happy to be who you are.  I’ve been fighting you on that self-esteem of yours for months now.”

“How can I not be glad when it’s brought me you?”  It was sappy as all hell and Nick nearly regretted saying it. But then Nate’s hand was gripping him by the tie and reeling him in, bringing his face to hover a fraction of an inch above Nate’s.

Gun-calloused fingers stroked along the skin-covered strut in his cheek before pulling him in that last fraction.  The kiss was nothing like that first; Nate’s lips were exceedingly gentle and soft, pressing barely-there, hesitant caresses again and again.  His lower lip was drawn achingly slowly between Nate’s and released, the man’s tongue tracing it once he’d freed it.  As Nate’s hand slid around to fan out over the back of his head, still so gentle, Nick forced himself to lever up and away and meet the man’s eyes.

“This really isn’t a good idea.”

The look on his face in response was flayed. “W-What?  I thought—“

He shook his head quickly, laying a metal finger on the man’s mouth to shush him. “No, hear me out.  You react like this to the mere thought that something you have been shunned for is accepted?  Yeah, wanting to be with a man isn’t a big deal at all here, Nate… but being with a synth sure as hell is.  No matter how accepted I am in Diamond City, nobody other than maybe Piper and Ellie are gonna be okay with this.  All those awful things people thought about flits? It would be ten times worse if folks think you’ve taken up with me.”

Nate was shaking his head. “Okay, for one thing, I’ve heard what people say about Zwicky and it isn’t nearly as bad—“

“Edna’s not a synth, sweetheart.  Even she’s considered better than that.”

“—but I don’t  _care_ , Nick.  I don’t care if people don’t like synths or ghouls.  If people can’t see what an amazing man you are, regardless of what you’re made of, then their opinion doesn’t matter a bit to me!”

Nick ignored the phantom flutter in his gut, closing his eyes. “It won’t be easy.  There’s a whole lot you aren’t considering.  You know what the Gen-2’s look like, right?  I may have flesh at the hands and face, but the rest of me is just that. I don’t have the bits or the drive for—“

“Shut up, Nick.  You want me to accept that I can love a man?  Then accept that I can love  _you_.“ His voice cracked halfway through. “It isn’t going to be easy for either of us, I get it.  But… we’ll figure out.  So long as you want this—“

It was Nick’s turn to cut him off now, giving in and kissing the man until he was gasping and breathless.  Nate’s hands seemed unable to stay still, fluttering from Nick’s neck to his back to his hips and back up again. One hand had quite literally ended up inside him, Nate’s fingers gripping at his chest plate where the flesh met the harder protection.  When he needed to breathe, Nick propped his forehead against the man’s and stared down into glazed, drooping green eyes.  “Sleep, sweetheart.  I suppose I’ll try and talk you out of this tomorrow.”

“Stay with me?”  Nick couldn’t argue with that.  He slid to lie more properly in the bed, keeping his boots off the and letting Nate position his arm to wrap around him.  The human yawned and nuzzled into him. “You always call me stubborn as a mule, you know.  There’s no way you’re talking me out of anything.”

“You’re a pain in my metal ass, yes.  Suppose that’s just one of the things that makes me adore you.”

Nate’s eyes were closed, his heartrate evening out.  But he grinned, slow and radiant. “Thank god for the future.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the slight delay... got entirely distracted by Unintended, then I didn't like how the post-reveal went, deleted and rewrote it 4 times, still don't really love it but... ugh. I know I had a better idea when I conceived of this. Sorry for apparently losing it.
> 
> Needed to actually finish this, though. I have not written more than a few scraps in literal YEARS. These Fallout fics I've written in the last week or so are more words combined than I've written in at least 3 years.
> 
> And now, partially written I have:
> 
>  **Nate/Nick**  
>  -Unintended, of course  
> -Smut w/ workbench+ making a strapon for Nick because my husband won't stop telling me to write it  
> -Est. Relationship rooftop-with-Father scene sad shit (probably in my cutsey software-verse)  
> -A kinkmeme prompt for reactions to someone assuming the two are together and being a bigoted jerk  
> -A met-before-the-bombs fic. Because I'm super trash.
> 
> PLUS a Nate/Deacon with pre-Freedom Trail run-ins AND a Nate/Hancock silly kidnapping fic...
> 
> Too much inspiration. It's all colliding in my head. My fingers cannot keep up. Auuughhh.


End file.
